Dante and the early astronomers

by M. A. Orr

Dante Alighieri was born in Florence in or about the year 1265, and died in 1321. There can be no doubt that the part of star-lore which appealed most to the general public in Italy at this time, educated and ignorant alike, was the art of the astrologers. The movements of the heavenly bodies were regarded not merely as omens, but as the actual instruments by which every event on Earth was brought to pass. Every class of plants, every race of animals, was thought to be under the protection of some planet or constellation; so if it was a bad year for certain fruits, or if an epidemic broke out among the cattle, this was because the guardian planet was unfavourably placed, or an evil planet was in the protecting constellation. Floods and drought, prosperity and death, properties of minerals such as the lodestone’s attraction for iron or the emerald’s alleged power of blinding serpents, the instincts of animals and the impulses of men, all were subject to the influences of the stars; and naturally the men who understood and interpreted their movements were held in great repute.

Some of them were unscrupulous quacks, like the one-eyed prophet of Brescia, mentioned by the gossiping friar Salimbene.[74] He “called himself an astrologer and diviner,” and received daily “ten great pennies of silver, and nightly three great Genoese candles of the purest wax” from a political party in Modena, as a recompense for advising them how to act. On one occasion he prophesied a victory for them, but he had little faith in his own words, for being threatened with violence if his prophecy should fail, he “carried off all that he had gained and went his way without saluting his hosts.” “Then,” adds the friar, “the men of Sassuolo began to mock them, as men who sacrifice to devils and not to God, as it is written in Deuteronomy.”

But most of these men, like Asdente of Parma, sincerely believed in their own ability to foretell events, and they usually combined some other favourite forms of soothsaying, as well as a little alchemy, with astrology. Asdente is described by Salimbene as “a poor working cobbler, pure and simple, and fearing God, and courteous and urbane; illiterate, but with great illumination of mind.” His proper name was Master Benvenuto, but he was “commonly called Asdente, that is, toothless, by way of contrary, for he hath great and disordered teeth and an impediment in his speech, yet he understands and is understood well. He dwells at the bridge-head of Parma, hard by the city moat and the well, along the street which goes to Borgo San Donnino.” This humble prophet was said by Dante to be the best known citizen of all Parma (Conv., IV. xvi. 65-71): he was asked to dinner by a bishop, and consulted by the warring factions of Reggio and Parma. He was said to have foretold the death of two popes, and a naval defeat of Pisa by Genoa.

The greatest generals of the day governed their tactics by the advice of astrologers who regularly accompanied them to the field and the camp. The famous Ghibelline, Guido of Montefeltro, who is called by Villani the cleverest soldier of his times[75] retained Guido Bonatti[76] in his service and was believed to have gained his great victory at Forli (in 1282) through the advice of this astrologer. Bonatti is diversely described as a tiler and a lawyer, but whatever his original occupation may have been he found that the position of private astrologer brought him both more fame and more money. He wrote a book on Judicial Astronomy, and Vincent de Beauvais describes him as celebrated throughout the western world for his knowledge of the art.

But Bonatti’s fame was faint and fugitive compared with that of the wizard Michael Scot. He is one of the picturesque figures of the thirteenth century, round whom so many legends have gathered that the facts of his life are difficult to glean. It seems that he was born in Fifeshire of a noble Scottish family, at the end of the twelfth or beginning of the thirteenth century, that he studied in Oxford and Paris, and then spent some time in Toledo. Here he learned Arabic, and probably also astrology, for it was so commonly practised there, especially among the Arabs and the Jews, that it was sometimes called the Toletan art. Afterwards he went to Germany, and was discovered by Frederick II., who took him to Italy. His great learning earned the admiration of Pope Gregory IX., who speaks of him quite affectionately in a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury; and it is said that Honorius II. would have liked to make him an archbishop. But Sir Michael the Scot found Frederick’s court more congenial. The Emperor, who was himself a poet, was a munificent patron of literature and art, and attracted to himself men of talent from all parts of the world. The culture of both East and West met at that brilliant Sicilian court[77] which was his for fifteen years before the title of Emperor was added to that of King of Naples and Sicily. Indeed it was his “fellowship with Saracens”[78] which was one great reason for the accusation of heresy on account of which Dante placed him among the Epicureans in the Inferno. He knew Arabic, as well as French, German, Italian, Latin, and Greek. Michael Scot’s acquaintance with Moorish literature and language was a bond of sympathy between them; he became astrologer to Frederick, and at the Emperor’s wish he superintended a new translation of Aristotle’s works from Arabic into Latin. His taste for astronomy is evidenced by the fact that out of these he chose to translate the De Cœlo himself.

An absurd story is told by Salimbene about Frederick and Michael Scot, which, however, shows what was believed of his capabilities as an astronomer. The Emperor one day asked him, when they were in the palace together, how far they were from the sky, and the astrologer told him the distance. They then took a long journey together, during which the palace was secretly lowered, and on their return Frederick asked casually whether the sky could really be so distant as Michael had said. “Whereupon he made his calculations, and made answer that certainly either the sky had been raised or the earth lowered; and then the Emperor knew that he spake truth.”

Michael Scot is said to have warned Frederick that he would die in Florence, for which reason the Emperor would not enter that city; but having thoughtlessly gone to a town called Florentiola he died there; “for this,” adds the historian, “is almost always the way, the devil tricks one by a play upon words.” It is curious to contrast this remark, attributing Michael’s prophecy to the evil powers, with Salimbene’s quotation from him, in exactly the same spirit as if he were quoting from an Old Testament prophet:—“that the word of Michael Scot may be fulfilled in them, which he wrote in his verses wherein he predicted the future, ‘And the factions at Reggio shall hold ill words together.’” The same author brackets him with others who have foretold the future, in a list which reads curiously to us—“Abbot Joachim, Merlin, Methodius and the Sybil, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea, Daniel, and the Apocalypse, and Michael Scot who was astrologer to the deposed Emperor Frederick II.”

Besides these prophetic verses, Michael wrote several books which treat almost exclusively of astrology, alchemy, and other occult “sciences,” and even in the fifteenth century it was said that his magic books could not be opened without danger, because of the fiends who were thereby invoked! He seems to have returned to his native Scotland to die, but the date is very uncertain. We do not know whether Dante’s picture of him is drawn from memory, or hearsay of some who had seen the lanky Scotsman among the southerners, by nature taller and thinner than they, and worn by his prolonged studies.

“Quell’ altro che ne’ fianchi è così poco Michele Scotto fu, che veramente Delle magiche frode seppe il gioco.”[79] (Inf. xx. 115-117).